Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1887-11-17
OLD DRESDEN.

/.
old Dresden paused for moment In hii
task of breaking up the gnarled mesquite
roots, and with long breath of satisfaction
and the mir of connoisseur viewed the pink
tinted heap beside him. Pulling of his di
lapidated hat, he allowed the cool morning
breeze Ia play among the somewhat ragged
locks which hung over his forehead Th'
sun, like great crimson ball hung sleepilS
above the Eastern horizon, casting fain
glow upon the turretted face of the Floridas
and gliding the distant peaks of the Tres
Hermanas, standing in closed-linked en-
brace, like allied sentinels guarding the
Mexican frontier In the long, level space
which stretched between the mountains
born aloft on the curling fingers of til,
morning mist, appeared phantom city, its
castellated heights and stately domes rear.
ing themselves rs If inprophecy of the years
10 come, when noble civilization shall re.
deem the barren mesas of the Southern ter
ritories and raise the monuments of art and
architecture amid the arid plains.
Inc ccnO ol nutlllh Voices lcll uI'oH IitS
den's ear.
'Oh, John, why must you 60 p A wo-
mans voice, low and sweet, with tremor
of pain.
Come now, Helen, don't be baby, dear.
Three weeks will fly by in no time. And
who knows how rich Il strike I may make.
| But don't want il, | need you John.
Old Dresden addressed himself 10 the wood
pile with redoubled energy. 4 flying knot
of mesa Iite struck his hand. The sting of
the wound refreshed him and little later
he heard the door of the cottage slam, while
the clink of "A horses hoof sounded on the
gravelly soil As he watched horse and
rider disappeared at length in the direction
of the mirage, which had shifted its form
SO rs to resemble huge beast of prey
couched for "A spring upon its prey, some
thing like very hot German oath rolled
| like stihed thunder from his lips.
| ~ teufel of "A fellow he murmnred more
calmly under his breath m instant later,
accenting the qualification with stout blows
of the axe OH an obstinate root, which had
rs many contortions rs dying serpent.
| a teufel of fellow. Leaf little frau like
dat alone 10 20 10 Mexico 10 tig golt in nit
tel de winder. 1t might be ferry goot for
him., he added meditatively, leaning upon
the aXe-helve, his face screwed into quaint
grimace, 'as old Ju should take of his scalp
for him-but de little frau
With a sudden indrawing of his shoul-
ders and an accompanying droop of the
corners of his mouth, he seemed 10 protest
against his own harsh judgement as he re-
newed the comba. with the obstinate fact.
| Old Dresden was not the only one who
disapproved of John Meredith's journey
through the wild Sierra Madre ut that
season of the year, when storms were fire.
| quent in tho mountains and Apaches sknlk-
lug ia the valleys and passes His partner,
| David Rowell had entered vigorous pro
test. but to no avail. John Meredith had
the pugnacity of determination peculiar to
men of genius. From early boyhood his
career had boen signalized by series of
daring and headstrong exploits, aud when,
as a crowning feat he had captured pretty
Helen Gresham by an audacious move, il
David Rowell felt any soreness of heart
down and harbored no bitterness in his
honest heart.
| A week after her husbands departure
Mrs. Meredith received scrawl from
Mesilla, where he had expected TO meet n
friend, written just rs they were taking the
trail And don't be worried my dear, he
wrote in conclusion the days will pass
quickly, and three weeks will soon be up.
But you must count from the date of our
departure She dried her eyes and counted
the days from the 10th of February.
On the 1st of March n warm wind swept
over the southern table lands. Under its
breath the snow upon the mountain peaks
vanished as if by magic and the dry beo of
the Miembres became the course of a sur
| ging torrent, sweeping onward for final
plunge into the waters of the gulf. The
fern-like foliage of the mesquite commenced
TO cautiously unfold, and the wild verbena
and lupine made tiny patches of purple and
magenta over the sterile wastes.
On the 2d of March Helen Meredith rose
at dawn. The morning was calm and still,
but peculiar obscurity about the horizon
presaged the approach of the New Mexican
sirocco. Stationed at bnll's eye window
| in the attic, with field-glass in her hand,
the young wife kept her eyes steadily fixed
on the winding, silyery ribbon attenuated
to thread in the distance, which marked
the line of travel pursued by passcrs to and
fro over the Mexican line. For upward of
an hour nothing rewarded her vigilance ;
then long and blurred mass developed in
| to train of hay wagons each drawn by n
score of stout limbed oxen ana attended by
a deputation of halEclothed swarthy Mexi
cans. Another hour passed, and the rough
wagon of Texan rancher appeared, the
horses strolling leisurely along, while man
and wife, perched on the high drivers seat,
smoked their clay pipes in placid content.
| Absorbed in her anxious watch, little
| Mrs. Meredith had not observed that the
| wind had risen, and for moment was al
most appalled, to see road and landscape
disappeared from view beneath a dun
coIored cloud, which, as it drew near ef-
fectually concealed every trace of the cot
tages across the street, and swallowed up
the form of every passer-by on her own
sidewalk Shreds of cloth, bits of paste
board, and great sheets of paper were
caught up by the wind, along with the
clouds OF dust and gravel, and borne onward
in its mad flight. In n lower latitude the
great velocity of the wind coupled with the
force of a far weghtier atmosphere, would
have given the storm the force of cyclone.
| As it was, it would do little mischief be-
yond arousing the tempers of mankind and
uprootiug snndry out houses built upon un-
| ,a,,ra foundations Mrs Mara1ifh WI fh